Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Beauty, Inner Beauty, Mother, Mothering, Parenting, Personal Care | Posted on 26-05-2012
But I am amazed by their capabilities and kindness.
Holding hands. Scrubbing stains. Typing like a fiend. Folding clothes. Planting flowers. Feeding the dog. High-fiving. Holding books. Baking cookies. Mixing. Stirring. Snapping. Yeah I can snap.
Writing blog posts. Shaking hands. Swiping debit cards. Pushing grocery carts. Wrapping presents. Scrubbing pots. Signing checks for soccer camps. Patting a back. Braiding hair. Drawing. Tying shoes. Ahem. When are ya gonna learn to tie those shoes yourself, buddy?!
Clapping at kids’ recitals, sports games, graduations. Pulling undies-out-of-buttcracks. Building sandcastles. Burying hamsters. Filling up the kiddie pool. Pumping gas. Smoothing quilts. Googling. Applying make-up. Applying wrinkle cream. Driving. Yeah, I drive one handed.
They always need lotion. They have seen too much sun in their lifetime without sunscreen–oops. They are always cold. I can count the number of manicures I’ve had in my lifetime on, uh, one hand.
My sweet and perfect grandmother had ugly hands. They always smelled like Clorox bleach or chocolate chip cookies. Mine do too. But her hands were powerful and kind. She rolled out pie dough. She was a seamstress by trade and made amazing dresses. She patted me on my leg, like I was a good puppy, while we sat side-by-side. And she would smile at me like I was the best thing in the world.
Though my hands are ugly, I wear my wedding ring with pride (and have for 19 years). I like big costume-jewelry rings. My latest purchase was a ginormous-and-tacky owl ring. I like short-and-simple-no-fuss nails.
And if I need to, I can always borrow my son’s Hulk hands.